


Best in Show

by flyingcrowbar



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Animal Abuse, Animal Shelter, Dogs, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1914075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingcrowbar/pseuds/flyingcrowbar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annabeth works at an animal shelter, so she thinks she's seen it all, that is until a guy brings in a massive dog who has been left to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best in Show

**Author's Note:**

> I always liked the fact that Beckendorf took care of Mrs. O'Leary and made her a collar. I figured he liked dogs, so I wanted to include him. I wish we had seen more of him.

“Please. Please help her.”

Annabeth looked up from her clipboard and gasped at what she saw. A dog, a giant black dog that was both huge and small at the same time in the arms of the guy carrying it. So thin, it was, thin enough that it looked like it didn’t have any muscle enough to stand. Its fur was patched and where the skin was showing through was festered with open wounds, scabbed over, or scarred by abuse. Its skeletal legs shook from fear or the cold or a combination of both, even though a wool blanket was wrapped around it tight. The smell alone was enough to know that this dog was in trouble. Its flesh was practically melting off its bones. 

“Please,” the one holding the dog said again. His eyes were glassy and his voice was thick.

“What happened?” Annabeth asked, rushing out from behind the counter. The dog flinched at the noise of the low door swinging shut.

“I found her - living under the bridge in a cardboard box. Please, I think she’s really sick.”

“Beckendorf!” Annabeth called over her shoulder, her voice echoing around the hall.

The guy kept talking. “I didn’t know where else to take her. She wouldn’t get in my car, so I carried her.”

“All this way?”

The guy nodded, his eyes lowered.

“Okay, no problem. What’s your name?”

“Percy. Jackson. Percy Jackson.”

“Alright, Percy, I’m Annabeth. She’s in good hands, okay?”

He nodded again.

“It’s alright. It’s going to be fine,” Annabeth assured, trying her best to keep her voice level. It was never an easy thing to see such pain.

Beckendorf emerged from the back room, his hands already covered in blue gloves. “Ah jeez…” he groaned, his brow furrowed. That made Annabeth’s stomach sink. Usually that wasn’t a good sign. If  _he_  thought it was bad…

Beckendorf opened his arms and Percy gently laid her there. He shifted her higher up onto his shoulder and carried her swiftly into the hallways toward the operation room.

“Is she going to be okay?” Percy asked, watching them go.

“We’ll do our best.”

“I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“She’s lucky you were there. I bet she’s very thankful you came for her.”

“Annabeth!” Beckendorf’s voice carried down the hallway. She was needed.

“One second!”

She looked back at Percy, her heart feeling like it had been dunked under frigid water. His eyes were turned away from her, and his fists were clenched at his sides. The once blue shirt he wore was streaked with mud and a dark splattering of the dog’s blood.

“I couldn’t just… I couldn’t just leave her there,” he said, his voice low.

There wasn’t much else Annabeth could say. Working at the shelter proved two things: the worst in humanity - treating animals lower than dirt - but also the best in humanity. Percy fell into the latter group.

“Give me your number,” Annabeth said.

“What?” Percy asked, suddenly a little pinker in the cheeks.

“If I have your number, I can call you. To keep you updated,” she added quickly. “If she’s homeless, then she has no one else if something happens.”

Percy’s lips formed a thin line. The thought of the dog not making it seemed to weigh heavy on his mind. But he nodded and followed Annabeth to the counter who took down his information.

When Percy turned to leave, she couldn’t help but noticed that he wiped his eyes on the back of his wrist.

* * *

 

That morning, the night that had decided the dog’s fate had passed, and yet there she was, curled up in her pen and watching Beckendorf and Annabeth through the bars. Defying all the odds, this dog was a survivor.

“How’s she doing today?” she asked.

“Better. The stitches are healing well. The infection hasn’t spread. Looks like she got into a few fights, maybe for food. She’s so underweight for her size.”

“I think she’s part Mastiff part Great Dane?”

“Probably,” Beckendorf said, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Alright, well to get her weight up we’ll have to take it slow.”

Beckendorf grunted in agreement.

“She looks healthier though. You’re a miracle worker,” Annabeth said.

“I just know how some things work. She didn’t seem to mind at all.” Beckendorf cracked a small smile.

Annabeth met the dog’s eyes, the big, brown eyes that looked up at her through surprisingly animated eyebrows. They were knit together as if constantly asking the question:  _Am I safe? Am I safe? Am I safe?_

She knelt down and poked her fingers through the bars. The dog slowly pulled herself up and dragged her paws, her nails clacking on the cement floor, to sniff her. She nuzzled against Annabeth’s fingers, as if demanding to be pet.

“She’s a sweetheart. What should we name her?” Annabeth asked.

“Mrs. O’Leary,” a third voice interrupted.

Annabeth and Beckendorf turned around and Percy was standing behind them, a new, freshly-printed name tag stuck on the front of his shirt.

“Or is the new guy not allowed to name them yet?” His smile was a welcome sight. Mrs. O’Leary’s tail finally wagged since she arrived.

* * *

 

“Bath time?” Percy asked, holding a sponge and a bucket full of soapy water.

“Fleas,” Annabeth clarified. “We need to make sure she’s not going to infect the others. She’s healed enough so the soap won’t bother her.”

“And you want me to do it?”

“Yeah, after all - you  _are_  the new guy.”

Mrs. O’Leary looked up at Percy, her maw hanging open so her tongue flopped out like a goofy smile.

* * *

 

Annabeth, making her rounds to check on the other animals, paused at the entrance to Mrs. O’Leary’s pen. The gate was open, but the dog wasn’t inside. Instead, Percy was rearranging the room, shuffling a new bed into place, then he filled her water bowl and gave her an extra serving of food. Obviously he had a favorite, and he wasn’t hiding the fact. He stood back and admired his work, not knowing that Annabeth was right behind him, hiding a grin behind her clipboard.

* * *

 

“And you’re sure? … Okay, thank you for your time. Mmhmm. You too.” Beckendorf hung up the phone while Annabeth leaned against the counter and watched Percy and Mrs. O’Leary rough-housing in the backyard.

“No luck?” she asked, not taking her eyes off of them.

“No one has put out any claims for her and it’s been over a month. Animal Control confirmed. If she had a family, they don’t want her now. She’s not anybody’s.”

Annabeth watched as Mrs. O’Leary, strong and fast, leaped through the air to catch the squeaky toy Percy was taunting her with. She was looking good, and her coat seemed to shine brighter than ever. And Percy’s smile matched.

* * *

 

“You serious?” Percy asked, his eyes wide.

“Yeah, I mean… if you want her. We see the way you are with her. I think she nearly broke her tail she was wagging it so much yesterday.”

Mrs. O’Leary was sniffing around the reception area, inspecting every nook and cranny, like information about every single dog on the planet would be found in that spot.

“Oh yeah?” he asked.

He patted his leg and Mrs. O’Leary bolted to him and put her head under his hand. She huffed, like a sigh, and Percy scratched her behind the ears. Her leg bounced.

“Here, I even made this for you,” Beckendorf said, coming from around the desk. He was holding a collar. It had her name engraved in bronze.

“Wow! Thanks!” he said, taking it with care. She looped it around her head and clasped it around her neck. Mrs. O’Leary looked pleasant enough.

“Think she likes you?” Annabeth asked, with sarcasm.

Percy gave her a look, a - Ha! Please. - look. He knelt down and rubbed her cheeks ferociously, making her jowels quiver.

“Alright, well then, I guess I’d better get her settled,” Percy said, still looking at his new dog who had jammed her head into his chest.

Annabeth smiled. It was alway a warm feeling that settled in her chest when she knew a dog was going to a good home. Not many dogs got the luxury.

Beckendorf patted her on the shoulder and returned to the back room, probably to check inventory. She was about to follow before Percy spoke up.

“One more thing - I need your number.”

Annabeth twirled around, her face flush. “What?”

“If I have your number, I can call you.” His smile widened. “To keep you updated.”


End file.
